


In Love

by Blossom_Strife



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Nobody is mentioned by name so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 16:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6086803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blossom_Strife/pseuds/Blossom_Strife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew that he had fallen for her, and he knew that their love could never be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Love

The streets are devoid of people, the late night curfew having descended over the village's people less that an hour ago. The prince looks out from his window, stopping his pacing. His sillouette is lit up from behind, the candle's light casting long shadows across his room. He's still wearing the silk outfit from the conference earlier that day, royal blues, golds and whites fitting snuggly around his tall form. The small black cat-like form that is usually in his pocket has sat itself on his shoulder, taking his moment of pause to speak.  
"Nobody is up. There's nobody to see you leave. You've already double bolted the door to stop anybody from getting in, and it's not like thaty're going to assume anything other than the fact that you're sleeping if you don't reply to any of their calls on the chance that someone does come to check on you." The small voice comes, soft and smooth. "You've been restless all day. Let's get rid of all that pent up energy hm?"  
"You're right. Plagg, claws out." The prince says, lifting his right hand to allow the small cat to disappear into the ring on his third finger. A light washes over his body, leaving a different person in his place.  
Skintight black cloth shows all of his curves, a belt-like fabric wrapped around his waist to hold the staff that rests on the small of his back in place. His sleeves hug his lower arms, trailing down to his knuckles with black ribbons tied around each of his wrists, a bright emerald green paw print inscribed onto each ribbon. His boots reach his knees with a gentle flare at the front that cover his knees when his legs are stretched out, small enough not to get in the way of his manuvers. His emerald green eyes are surrounded by a black mask, partially hidden by his hair as is falls around and over his face. A tail drags out behind him, the top hidden by the fabric at his waist, twin to the cat ears perched upon his head.

 

Before he can change his mind, the prince is out of his window, cat ears twitching as he listens out for any guards doing their first patrol of the evening. When no sound greets him, he allows himself to fall from his window, nails digging into previously ingraved scratch marks that nobody in the castle seemed to be bothered or concerned about before falling into a low crouch, the sound of his boots hitting the ground soft. He takes a moment to listen out for any movement again, deeming it safe before darting to the walls surrounding the castle and scaling it, perching on the top to look around the perimeter.

 

The night is darker outside the walls of the castle, allowing the prince to speed across the land between the perimeter and the village once he is sure that nobody patrolling is going to see him. Moving on all fours allows him to build up more speed faster, giving him the momentum he needs to jump to the top of the first house, steps soft and weight light as he moves from house to house until he reaches his destination. The Dupain-Cheng bakery.

 

He can't remember a time when he didn't visit the owners' daughter, a fair maiden that was everything to him. They'd met before the curfew had been put in place when he was out to burn of some energy from being pent up all day. She'd taken him into her bakery and introduced him to her parents, getting him some food that her father had made fresh that afternoon and spending hours on end talking with him about anything and everything. They met up every night after that until the curfew was put in place, and he limited his visits to once a week, never telling her how he could avoid the curfew.

 

His quiet knock on the bakery door is enough to draw the girl out of her room to open it for him, ushering him inside before anybody looks out at the street and sees him standing there. The door is shut behind him as he wanders in, his fluid movements making it seem like he is gliding across the floor. He takes the food offered to him happily, seating himself upon a table as he eats, eyes following the girl as she moves around the bakery. She settles besides him after getting herself a drink, leaning over to rest her head against his shoulder.

 

The sense of welcoming that comes from the bakery has always been something that the prince has loved, so different to the castle in which he was raised, out of sight and out of mind of his father. The silence that sits between him and the girl has never been anything other than peaceful, and in the moments when the two are sitting together, he finds himself feeling more at home that he has anywhere else.

 

"You're tense." The girl observes, placing down her cup in favour of placing her hands on his cheeks, turning his face so he is looking at her. "Did something happen?" She asks softly.  
"Just... Something with my dad. I was forced to stand in pretty clothes and look perfect all day, and I wasn't allowed to say a thing in the discussion I was supposed to be involved in. No need to worry, princess." He replies, relaxing into her touch. One of her hands reaches up to brush her fingers through his hair and his eyes flutter shut, a low purr rumbling deep in his chest. The girls stormy blue eyes glitter in the low light, her dark hair framing her small face as she smiles.

 

The prince knew that he loved the baker's daughter. He knew that he wouldn't be able to have her as long as his father had a say over his life. Although his feelings were to strong to push away, he could easily keep them to himself, close in mind, never anywhere else. He knew that he had fallen, and he knew that he had fallen hard.

 

But if he was honest with himself, he really didn't mind. Not one bit.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what happened honestly.
> 
> Feel free to point out any mistakes or anything that I could improve in my fics.


End file.
